Hope
by Alexis-Greenleaf
Summary: As the quest to destroy the One Rings comes to a close, a certain elf thinks about his feelings for the King of Gondor. (contains mild slash


Hello everyone. My muses have come after me once again! The idea for this fic came to me after I saw The Return of the King in theaters yesterday. It covers a few parts of the movie that I particularly enjoyed. This story is written from my favorite elf's point of view. It should be pretty short, most likely only three chapters long. Please note that I am basing this fic on events that happened in the movie, which I have only seen once. If any errors are spotted (and i'm sure there will be some) please let me know. Also note that this fic contains mild slash.  
  
Title: Hope  
  
Rating: pg-13 (maybe?)  
  
Spoilers: FOTR, TTT, ROTK  
  
Warnings: Mild slash and violence  
  
Chapter One- Prologue  
  
It was such a difficult and hard-fought battle. The few Gondorians and Rohirrim who had survived the Battle of the Pelennor Fields had been mustered together, in one last struggle against the Dark Lord. We had made our stand outside the Morannon, our scarce amount of soldiers weak and obviously frightened.  
  
And then you, being our fearless leader, rode up to the black gate. I followed you on my noble mount, Arod, with my Dwarven friend Gimili riding behind me, as did Mithrandir and Eomer. It has always been my instinct to follow you; I would do so to the end of Middle Earth.  
  
I do not deny that I was frightened: The very sight of the cruel iron gates made me tense. But not you- you shouted to the Mouth of Sauron, and the gaits ominously creaked open, revealing hordes of filthy orcs and uruk-hai. They roared and snarled, brandishing their deadly weapons, and the eye of Sauron was fixed upon us, but you stayed calm. Never have I admired your courage more.  
  
I was helpless as we rode back to the waiting soldiers: I could feel their unmistakable fear. And why shouldn't they be frightened? They were all waiting for their doom! I wanted to shout, to scream, 'Fools! You will find no victory here! You are throwing your lives away!' But there was nothing I could do: they had to fight. So I watched an listened with reverence as you gave your incredible speech:  
  
"...A day may come when the strength of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship; but it is not this day. This day, we fight!"  
  
I could not help but feel better: your uplifting words had visibly lifted the spirits of your men. Suddenly, I did not feel as hopeless any more. You always did have a way with words.  
  
And then before I knew what was happening, you whispered, "For Frodo!" I heard the hobbits Merry and Pippin echo your words, only louder.  
  
"For Frodo!"  
  
You charged, Anduril, the Flame of the West, gleaming in your grasp. And suddenly, we were all running towards our foes. I said I would follow you anywhere.  
  
I killed three orcs with my bow before we even reached their ranks. A small voice in the back of my mind mused, 'Look, you've already got a head start over the Dwarf!' I mentally slapped myself for being so childish. This is the final battle for Middle Earth: not a time for jokes and contests!  
  
As we neared the foul creatures, I drew my twin Mirkwood knives. I skillfully spun my weapons, stabbing and slicing at the servants of the Dark Lord. My blades became a blur as I killed orc after orc. The very stench of the battle was nauseating: there were goblins on every side of me, and my tunic and arms were covered in their disgusting black blood.  
  
But I was not completely focused on my fighting, for I had been watching you out of the corner of my eye the entire time. I silently scolded myself for not concentrating completely; it would be only too easy to slip-up in a battle like this. But it was always so difficult to keep my eyes off of you, when you were fighting or otherwise. I admit that in my heart I fear for your safety. Though by the standards of the edain you are exceedingly elderly due to your Numenorean blood, you are still young to me. You are only a child compared to my age of five hundred years.  
  
But as I watch you wield your sword, I know that I fear needlessly, for you are more than capable of defending yourself.  
  
A deep growl brings me back to my senses. I look up to see a monstrous troll, twice my height and six-times my width approach you. The nearby orcs and uruk-hai move out of the path of the evil beast.  
  
I know that there is no need to worry as you begin to fight; you expertly parry the beast's blow and attack it with Anduril, but I cannot help getting a pit in my stomach as I watch you fight. My fears are confirmed, however, as I watch the troll deliver a deadly blow. You block the attack, but are forced to the ground.  
  
Frantically, I begin to make my way over to where you had stood. My blood is heated with vengeance as I deftly slice my way through my enemies. I must reach you.  
  
I can no longer see you through the crowd, but my sensitive ears can hear your muffled cries. After slaying several more orcs, I can see you, lying on the ground with the troll's monstrous foot upon your chest. I cry your name in anguish, but you do not hear me. You are stabbing the creature's leg with your dagger. The beast roars in pain as it backs off of you.  
  
Thoughts are racing through my mind. The pit in my stomach deepens as I contemplate whether or not you have any injuries. I sigh in relief as you stand, apparently unscathed. Reflexively, I shoot the creature numerous times in the head, until it falls dead.  
  
I have only killed four more of my enemies when the ground surges beneath my feet. We all bring our eyes to Barad-dur, the Dark Tower. The eye of Sauron is burning more ferociously than normal, it's single evil pupil enlarged. The ground continues to quake underfoot. Suddenly, the Tower begins to tremble, and then it crumbles to the ground, releasing a massive surge of energy as the Dark Lord is destroyed.  
  
The battle is stilled now: man and orc alike have ceased fighting to watch the spectacle at hand. I shift my gaze to Mount Doom, known to my people as Orodruin. Great clouds of ash billow out from the crevice at the top, and rocks and magma shoot into the sky.  
  
I rejoice, for I know that Frodo and Sam have finally succeeded in their quest to destroy the One Rings. But my blood runs cold as I think of the two halflings inside the heart of the mountain. I look at Mithrandir, who seems to have the same thoughts as I do.  
  
A single tear falls down my cheek as I grieve over the fate of my two companions. They are so young, I think to myself, and now they shall perish, never to see the fruits of their hard labor and suffering.  
  
I tell myself that I should not be so weak in front of others, weeping like a mere elfling. I feel so ashamed and helpless as I watch you strike down your opponents. You do not allow your emotions to effect your fighting.  
  
I honestly do not know how long I stood on the battlefield in my stupefied state, but I was brought back to my senses when a loud crack rang-out through the air. Fear ran through me as I watched in horror as the ground, only a hundred meters or so away, collapsed. Great ridges formed in the earth as sections of ground fell, taking thousands of orcs with it. I could hear their desperate cries as they plummeted down.  
  
I tensed, knowing that I, too, would soon be falling to my death. Death. What would it be like? I wondered. I was petrified. My head was swimming. I only regret that I have never told you how I truly feet about you; that sometime during the Quest I had fallen for you. I had always put my feelings aside, knowing that you had more important things to deal with, and that your heart belonged to another. I had always felt so selfish, worrying about my emotions when the fate of Middle Earth was being decided.  
  
The ground continued to fall away, the hideous orcs falling with it when, suddenly, it stopped, mere meters away from our soldiers. I breathed out a sigh of relief.  
  
Behind us, any live orcs ran for their lives. The eagles that had been battling the Nazgul landed on the ground. Mithrandir mounted the largest one, and the three great birds took-off towards Orodruin. I could not believe what I was seeing. I blinked several times to make sure that my eyes were not playing tricks on me, but I glanced over at you, and your eyes were fixed on the eagles as well. You looked over at me and smiled. Did you know that you have the most beautiful smile?  
  
We were victorious over the Dark Lord Sauron; the fate of Men had been decided. And you had led them to victory.  
  
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So, what do you think? I'll probably write two more chapters (that will hopefully be more exciting), although, I have no idea of what to write at this moment. Any ideas/suggestions/comments/questions/criticism would be more than welcome. 


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